The history of the Salt Creek Cider House could read as a hard luck tale, but that’s not how founder Carter Rickert chooses to see it.

Shortly after the business opened to the public in late 2019, restrictions associated with the COVID outbreak shook the global economy.

Rickert also ran up against a steep learning curve as a beginning orchardist, losing nearly a third of the apple trees he planted on the property.

And last year, his family and company sustained the toughest blow of all, with the death of his wife, Lindy, after a battle with cancer.

Despite these hardships, Rickert is thankful that his cidery survived the pandemic and that Northwest farmers have helped shore up his fruit supply.

And rather than consider it a painful reminder of his loss, Rickert says the Salt Creek Cider House provides a sense of solace and connection to his spouse.

“She’s still present everywhere here, even though she’s not physically present,” he said. “I’m grateful we built this business together. It’s her legacy, as well as her children.”

Rickert and his wife built the facility on his family’s farm near Dallas, Ore., which the couple bought from his parents after moving back to Oregon from Tennessee.

After learning to fly helicopters in the Army, Rickert worked for a news station in Tennessee and an air ambulance in Oregon, but decided to start a company that would allow for more time with his wife and two kids.

With only a limited amount of small-scale fermentation experience, Rickert taught himself to produce commercial volumes of cider with books and videos.

“I had to get real serious about learning how to do it,” he said. “I think I saw the entire YouTube library on cider making.”

For the most part, though, Rickert said he prefers not to over-complicate things and let the fruit speak for itself.

“The yeast and the juice, they know what to do,” he said. “You don’t have to interfere too much. It’s a process that’s been going on for millennia.”

The company produces 14 cider varieties, selling about 60% of its output on-site and the rest through about 100 restaurants, taverns and grocery stores. The label names are inspired by concepts from the American revolution and the early history of the United States, when Johnny Appleseed was planting cider cultivars across the young nation’s countryside.

For example, its “Legacy” label is made exclusively from apples grown on the 20-acre property, while “Folklore” only relies on apples from the Willamette Valley.

“As Americans we have a long connection with cider. It literally helped found the country,” Rickert said.

Cider apples are commonly known as “spitters,” since the tannins in their skin render the fruit bitter when bitten into — but contribute to a more balanced, nuanced flavor in the finished drink, he said.

Salt Creek Cider House uses blends of cider and dessert apples for some of its labels, and also combines them with other fruit, such as blackberries and cherries.

Some manufacturers add pasteurized fruit juice to cider, which increases the sugar content, but Rickert doesn’t have the equipment for pasteurization and so “co-ferments” everything together at once. The technique has proven to distinguish his company from some of its competitors, he said.

“It’s one of the reasons ours are drier,” Rickert said. “From a business standpoint, it gives us a little niche. The bigger guys tend to focus on the sweeter ciders.”

The company has generally experienced healthy annual sales growth since its inception but has seen revenues flatten in the past year, likely due to inflation inhibiting consumer spending and his wife’s illness hindering her involvement, he said.

Rickert said he believes cider has more “staying power” than some other adult beverages but recognizes that modern alcohol consumers are notoriously fickle.

“I’ve heard of Northwest drinkers described as promiscuous before. We have a lot of craft options and people like to try a lot of different things,” he said.

Over time, he wants to expand the cidery’s distribution by three- or four-fold but has been reluctant to sign on with a wholesaler due to “horror stories” he’s heard about how small producers are treated.

For example, some distributors have been known to contractually restrict the direct marketing efforts of small alcohol manufacturers, Rickert said. On the other hand, he realizes that hiring his own sales team wouldn’t be cheap while handling distribution entirely himself may constrain the company’s growth.

“They have the logistical ability that me and my one car do not,” Rickert said of wholesalers. “I can’t totally rule it out but I don’t love the idea.”

At this point, Rickert’s company is functioning as a two-person operation, with cider house manager Grace Beatty assisting with marketing, production, events and anything else that must get done.

“I do a little bit of everything,” Beatty said. “I love the variety of things I get to do.”

Rickert said he was initially resistant to add her to the payroll five years ago, due to the expense involved, but his wife insisted and he now considers that a blessing.

“Grace has been a major asset,” he said. “She’s part of the family now.”

Apart from expanding the company’s wholesale reach, Rickert hopes to drive more people to the cidery, which often features live music and food trucks on the weekends and is typically busiest in the spring and summer.

“It’s family friendly, so kids can be farm kids for a day,” Beatty said.

The cider house is also easy to find, situated along a rural stretch of Oregon Route 22 between Salem, Ore. and the Pacific coast.

“You get off the highway going 65 miles per hour and get to slow down for a while,” Rickert said.